It shines, love does.
it sparkles in goodbye/hello,
in tears at airports, leave for school
or simply leaving for the day times
when fingers slide, reluctantly apart
clinging to the memory of warmth
against the chill of lonely.
It sings, love does.
it makes a harmony with birdsong
in the morning, hiding under sheets
that hold the scents of passion, a little
corner of the night protected from the day,
an anthem to be hummed, a shield
against the silence of alone.
Love does these things
and waits for us to notice
to hear the song, to see the shine,
the hand outstretched
because we are much better
when we are not alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem